Reunited
by GokaiYellow
Summary: One-shot. As life slips away from his eyes, Chuck finds his parents at last. Cross posted to tumblr.


"Chuck! Chuck!" were the last words he heard as he wheezed his last breath. The view of Thomas, the shank he considered a best friend, was slowly fading away to darkness behind his eyelids. The fiery, throbbing aches he felt, courtesy of the dagger thrown, began to disappear.

_Shuck it_, Chuck thought. _Gally had really lost his mind._ He hoped that Thomas took him for that – after all, he did say that Thomas could probably take Gally and his friends without any problem. The thought of Thomas attacking Gally with everything he had made Chuck smile in his mind.

"Chuck…Chuck…" a voice echoed.

Chuck ignored it as he thought back to the last few moments of his life. They had escaped. After two and a half years, they managed to get out, all thanks to Thomas. It hadn't seemed possible but when they made it out of the maze, all Chuck could think about was finding them. His mom, if he had one and maybe his dad if he was still around.

"Chuck…"

"Chuckie ol' pal…"

Chuck clutched his ears and curled up in a ball as the echoing sounds got louder. His name. Why was his name being called, over and over again? Maybe this was normal when you died?

Then a large hand squeezed his shoulder. Chuck refused to move from his position and he tried to scrunch his body tighter, to make himself smaller. If he was dead, he just wanted to go in peace!

He felt the same hand rumple his hair and he finally had enough. He flung his left hand out to smack the hand messing with his hair and grumbled, "Ah shuck it and leave me alone, already."

"Charles, that's not very nice to say," a female voice replied.

Chuck uncurled himself at her words and sat up. His eyes flew open and just as he was about snap back, he stared at them, silent and dumbfounded.

The woman was sitting in a chair near his feet, her hands folded in her lap. The man was kneeling next to Chuck with a quiet smile on his face. Chuck stared at them, studying their features closely. She had curly hair like his and a flush in her cheeks. The man was on the heavier side with a round face and bright blue eyes that shone brightly.

Chuck licked his lips nervously as he looked from the woman, then to the man, then back to the woman. She smiled at him and said, "You're acting like you've never seen your own mother and father before."

Chuck sat up straighter and shook his head violently. "No, no, no this…this isn't real," he declared. "Probably one of those shuck Creators planting something in my head, yes that's it. Well, it's no use 'cause I'm smarter than that and I'm dead! I'm not of any more use to you shanks, so let me die in peace!"

"Son, I don't know what happened in the experiments," the man began, "but it really is us. We couldn't let you stay – not with what was happening out there."

"When they told us you were special, we had no other choice," the woman added. A tear escaped from her eye and she bit her lip while trying to keep the smile on her face. "Chuckie, sweetheart, you were so brave. And we couldn't have been more proud of you."

Chuck slumped his shoulders and groaned as he ran a hand across his face. He was torn – he wanted to believe that this was real but since WICKED had done so much damage to the Gladers already, it was hard to believe anything.

The woman got up from her chair and she pulled Chuck into her arms. Chuck's face became buried in the sea of curls and he closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of vanilla and something flowery. The combination smelled familiar and in his mind, he knew that this was happening. It was real.

"Mom?" Chuck whispered. "Dad? …What's going on in the world?"

His mother pulled away from him and dabbed away her tears. His father sighed as he wiped away some sweat from his forehead.

"Everyone's infected Chuckie," his father said. "We caught it – all of us. It got to us…but you, you somehow weren't affected like us."

Chuck felt his blood run cold at those words as he tried to process everything that was happening. Thomas had said that he'd seen that they were part of some kind of an experiment, that they were chosen because they were special for some reason. The news that the world was infected by something and that some got lucky and others weren't, was starting to make sense.

"WICKED told us that they needed you," his mother continued. "It broke my heart to see you go – you were so young, but they said you might be able to help them find a cure."

"Please son," his father said. "We can't expect you to understand everything, but we only let you go because we had to."

"So," Chuck breathed. "Everyone is infected?"

"Yes."

"There's no cure?" Chuck asked.

"There wasn't one yet sweetie," his mother replied. "WICKED claimed that you were immune and could be of great help to finding one."

_That means…that Thomas, Newt, everyone…_Chuck thought. _Everyone's infected. But if we were all in the maze, everyone had to be immune, right?_

"I don't know if there's a cure now," Chuck spoke up. "We, we just got outta the maze after two and a half years. Then we saw the Creators and…Gally was with them. He threw a knife at me and I, I didn't make it." He hung his head and slumped his shoulders. If he was supposed to help with finding a cure, he sure didn't do it, not if he died right when they broke out.

Then his father wrapped him a bear hug, followed by his mother. She kissed his forehead and whispered, "Honey, we're proud of you all the same. And I'm so happy we're together again."

"Chuckie, you did us proud," his father said.

"Guess I did," Chuck whispered as he embraced them.


End file.
